Some friends of ours thought of this scenario, tho' more as an old folks home, and wrote a song about it, to the tune of The Apprentice Song.

Old Folkie's Home by Liz Merton, Mary Hubble & Ruth Birnie

Come on Folkies, bring your music,
Leave the suburbs to your kids.
Here's a home for your retirement,
You can jam all day instead.
Keep your eyes on the older folkies,
They're the ones who know their stuff.
One day you will play like they do,
If you stay here long enough!

Come on Folkies, bring your songbooks,
Just in case your memory fades.
Bring your CDs, tapes and records (& mini discs and DVDs)
And be sure they will be played.
Never mind if the volume's fading,
Hearing aids are all the rage.
We'll still party to the small ones,
Celebrate our growing age.

Wake up dear, it's time to party,
Here's the gear to change your drip.
Fill the damn thing up with whiskey
And we'll have a groovey trip.
Nearly time for this evening's ceilidh,
Are your wheelchair's brakes alright?
Don't want any nasty crashes,
No more skid marks, like last night.

Rediscover your libido
when you lose the stress and strain.
Double rooms are there for sharing,
Lots of time for fun and games.
People say 'Life begins at 40'
Here you'll see the living proof.
Practise makes your playing polished,
Let us pity callow youth.

Robyn